


Snow Day

by PFL (msmoat)



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M, Older Lads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:29:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmoat/pseuds/PFL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a snowy day, sometime in 2009/2010, Bodie and Doyle remember another snowy day in 1981/1982...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Day

Snow Day  
By PFL

**Sometime in 2009/2010…**

0700

Bodie smiled when Doyle’s mobile switched into voicemail. It wasn’t often that he was up before Doyle. “Good morning! The snow has stopped, the sun is on the rise, and I’m going to see how far I can get. If all the silly people have stayed home, I should be home in two hours. I expect breakfast! Cheerio!”

0814

“Damn. Better make that lunch, sunshine. _Substantial_ lunch. I’m not stopping! At least, not once we get going again, I’m not stopping. And where the hell are you?”

0852

“Why, oh why did I ever let them convince me not to carry a gun? Oi, you stupid plonker, _move_! Sorry. It’s going to take me for-bloody-ever to get home. I expect a great deal of admiration for both my restraint and perseverance. In fact, I’d like to demonstrate both tonight. With you. And again I ask: where the bloody hell are you?”

0928

“Raayyyy.”

1045

“I could have walked faster than this. Bloody snow. Pretty enough while it’s coming down, yes, but afterwards…. You’re probably loving it, aren’t you? In fact, that’s where you are, isn’t it? You’re communing with the nasty stuff. I could perish out here, you know! And, no, that would _not_ save you a fortune in food, so don’t think it. Look, Ray, call me, eh?

1046

“And it is bloody safe to call because we aren’t bloody well moving!”

They sky was clear, and the sun out, but the temperature was still below freezing. The sun on the snow was so bright he dug out his sunglasses. Snow, sunglasses, and bright sun. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone—most especially not Doyle—but he couldn’t help but think of this day as a sort of anniversary.

**Sometime in 1981/1982…**

The door buzzer woke him. Bodie ignored it for as long as he could, then pulled the duvet off his head and peered at the clock. He groaned and burrowed back into the warmth of his bed and his dreams.

Except the bloody irritating sod at the door wouldn’t stop pushing the damned buzzer!

Bodie flung the duvet to the side, climbed out of bed, stalked to the intercom. “ _What?_ ”

“Get dressed. We’re going for a run. It’s magic out here!”

“Good bye, Doyle.” He released the switch. Of course the bugger pressed the buzzer again. “We’re off duty!”

“Do you remember that cricket match you dragged me to?”

Bodie squeezed his eyes shut. “You wanted to go—we were playing the Met!”

“I’m calling it in, Bodie.”

“You’re mad. That’s _snow_ out there. Lots of snow.”

“Ever run on snow?”

“Yes, and I’ve no wish to repeat it.”

“Come on. You can relive fond army training memories.”

“They taught us to kill, you know.”

“You made me watch cricket. For hours!”

“We didn’t even stay for the whole—you made me miss!”

“Go on, get your trainers.”

“It’s freezing, Ray.”

“Perfect weather for it. Five minutes, or I’m breaking in.”

“Sod!” But Bodie knew it wasn’t an idle threat. He also knew it would take him more than five minutes—and there was always the chance he could convince Doyle to stay in the warmth if he got him inside. He pressed the door lock. “Push.”

Bodie pulled on a robe while Doyle was on his way up. When Doyle arrived at his door, Bodie took one look at him and groaned. Doyle, dressed in grey tracksuit trousers, a long-sleeved shirt, and a blue windcheater, radiated excitement.

“Bet you were the kind of kid who’d run to the window, nose to the glass, at the first hint of a snowflake.”

Doyle grinned. Bodie went to find his trainers. All too quickly, he was being bundled down the stairs, out of his block, and into the Capri.”

“Here.” Doyle handed him a thermos.

“What is it?”

Doyle just smiled and started the car.

Bodie unscrewed the lid and smelled tea. He poured out a good portion and drank it as Doyle drove. He was on his second cup before he spoke. “This has sugar in it.”

“Does it?” Doyle sounded surprised.

“Hmm. Where are we going, anyway?”

“Richmond.”

“In this? You’re daft.”

“Nah.” Doyle slanted a look at him. “It’ll be great.”

Bodie rolled his eyes, but the tea had warmed him, and he couldn’t resist Doyle’s enthusiasm.

Doyle was able to find a parking spot near the entrance to the park. There were a few tracks in the snow as they walked through the gate, but they didn’t see anyone else. The snow was crunchy underfoot, and not too deep. The hoar frost on the trees glistened in the early morning sun and gave the impression of a world encased in ice and snow.

“Bloody hell, it’s bright,” Bodie said.

Doyle produced a pair of sunglasses and held them out towards Bodie.

“They’ll just fog up.”

Doyle shrugged, put on the sunglasses, and broke into an easy jog.

Bodie sighed and caught up with him. “You’re still mad.”

“It’s beautiful!”

“It’s our day off!”

“And we’re enjoying it, aren’t we?” Doyle increased the pace.

“Notice how many other people aren’t out here!”

“Since when do you follow the crowd?”

“I wish I had, mate.” Bodie’s foot slipped and he automatically adjusted. There was ice under the snow, but the footing wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. “I always knew it, you know.”

“Knew what?”

“You’re as sadistic as Macklin.”

“Hmm—except I’m running with you.”

“Masochistic, then.”

“And he’d have us running in a blizzard. In the dark.”

“Up hill.”

“Up Box Hill.”

“Don’t give him any ideas!”

Doyle grinned again. “This is just you and me, mate.”

Bodie gave him a look, and Doyle laughed. They passed the first mile mark, and Bodie began to enjoy the run. He was warmed up and moving easily beside Doyle. The cold air felt wonderful on his heated skin. The park was gorgeous—a strange, oddly muffled place. All he could hear was the sound of their footfalls, breathing, and voices. They passed a herd of deer that paid them no mind. It was as if they were the only humans in this world—no villains, no one shooting at them. There was no reason to run other than the joy of movement. It was just him and Doyle, side-by-side. He could see Doyle’s breath in the air.

They ran along the Tamsin Trail and he felt he could keep this up forever. Bring on Macklin and his twenty-mile runs! Give him snow and Doyle and he’d tackle anything. “I’ll do you a fry-up when we get home.”

Doyle glanced at him, and Bodie wished he wasn’t wearing the sunglasses. “What, fill yourself with cholesterol after this?”

“Go on, you know you want it.”

He had a side view of Doyle’s smile. “Maybe.”

By the time they circled back to the gate where they’d entered, there were other walkers and runners in the park, braving the snow. They slowed to a walk. Bodie traded a smile with Doyle, breathing in the cold air, feeling fit and warmed and bloody well alive.

“Told you you’d like it.” Doyle led the way to the car.

“Don’t be smug.”

“Would—” Doyle’s voice cut off as he slipped on the path.

Bodie gripped Doyle’s arm and yanked him upright, steadying him with his other hand. “Clumsy!”

Doyle laughed at him. His cheeks were red from the cold, and there was frost on part of his sunglasses. And God help him, but he wanted to pull Doyle in close to him. More than anything in the world, he wanted to kiss Doyle. His hand tightened on Doyle’s arm. But he heard kids shouting and laughing, and he stopped himself. Doyle didn’t move.

“If I take you home,” Doyle said, his voice low, “will you look at me like that again?”

Bodie didn’t breathe. He felt exposed.

Doyle took off his sunglasses. His eyes were narrowed a little at the corners; his expression was serious. “Will you?”

“Yes.” His own voice was barely above a whisper. He looked away, blinking in the glare of the sun.

Doyle stepped in close to him and put his glasses on Bodie. “There. Better?”

Bodie managed a nod.

“Don’t forget.” Doyle moved away. “You promised me breakfast.” He turned towards the car.

Bodie followed, his heart beating harder than it had on the run.

“Catch.” Doyle tossed him the car keys in a high arc. Bodie grabbed them. “Since you have my glasses, you can drive.”

Bodie drove through the snow-covered streets. He was very aware of Doyle next to him, slouched in the seat, head back against the headrest. Doyle had said nothing more once they were in the car. It could almost have been a dream. Except he was wearing Doyle’s sunglasses. _Don’t forget._

This was a bad idea. The desire he’d felt had been the impulse of a moment, a reaction to the glow of the run. It was snow blindness, snow madness. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t allow it to be.

Doyle wanted it.

Madness. There was no future in It. And the risk to the partnership—

No. But he remembered Doyle’s laughter, brighter than the sun. To hold that—to hold him, even for just a fleeting moment—like snow in England. He felt like a kid with his nose pressed against the glass, hoping for the magic to fall from the sky.

They arrived at Bodie’s block. Doyle was as quiet as Bodie as they walked up to the flat. Second thoughts? Doyle was always sensible. He’d understand the dangers as well as Bodie did. Bodie’s stomach tightened. They were adults, not kids.

Doyle turned as Bodie closed the door. He tilted his head. “Those are mine.”

Bodie blinked, then held out the glasses in his hand.

Doyle walked forward, and put his hands on either side of Bodie’s face. “Keep the glasses. But your lips—” Doyle kissed him. And all of Bodie’s fears fled in an instant.  
He put his arms around Doyle, pulled him close, and felt the response in Doyle’s body.

They kissed until Bodie finally ended it, and then he looked at Doyle and what he saw in Doyle’s eyes stopped his breath.

“Tit for tat.” Doyle’s voice wavered, but his eyes were steady.

“Best run ever,” Bodie said, and gathered him close again.

 

**Sometime in 2009/2010…**

Bodie’s phone went off as he turned in to their road. He fished it out, saw it was Ray, and answered it. “Trust you to find your phone just as it’s no longer needed.”

“Do you know you left me 11 voicemail messages?”

“And brilliant, every one of them.”

“I am particularly fond of the one where you cried out my name. Took me right back, that did. Fond memories.”

“What do you mean ‘memories’? That was a portent, that was. Where were you, anyway?”

“Where are you?”

“Home.”

“How home?”

“Almost very. Why?”

“I need you to pick something up.”

“After you abandoned me to my fate?”

“I wasn’t distracting you, you see.”

“Very noble of you. What is it you want me to pick up?”

“Me.”

“You—what happened, Ray?”

“Strewth! Suspicious! Why do you think something’s happened?”

“Where are you?”

Doyle sighed. “Hospital.”

Bodie performed a neat Y turn. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“What?”

“I’m not talking to you while you’re driving.”

“That bad, eh?”

“Just pick me up.” Doyle disconnected the call.

“Berk,” Bodie said out loud. It didn’t take him long to get to the local hospital. Doyle was waiting for him in the lobby, in a wheelchair, carrying crutches. There was a cast on his left lower leg. Bodie shook his head as he walked towards him. “Can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?”

“That’s right.” Doyle brightened. “So this is all your fault.”

“You wish. What’s the damage?”

“Broken ankle. Can we go now?”

Bodie folded his arms. “You have tablets? Instructions? Something to explain to me?”

Doyle sighed. “I fell.”

Bodie raised his eyebrows.

“Outside. If you must know.” Doyle sounded testy.

“Not very original, is it? Why didn’t you call me?”

Doyle looked shifty. “I didn’t want to distract—”

“Bear in mind that I’m the one who is going to be taking care of you.”

“Bastard. Fine. I didn’t have my phone with me.”

“Idiot.”

“It was all right, though—Mrs Jameson summoned an ambulance.”

“Mrs Jameson? That’s miles—” Bodie stopped speaking, and narrowed his eyes. “You twat! You went out for a run, didn’t you?”

Doyle coughed. “Possibly.”

“That’s snow out there, that is.” Bodie gestured with one of his hands.

“Yes, well…brought me luck that one time, didn’t it?” Doyle smiled brilliantly.

Bodie looked at him. “Don’t think for a minute I’m going to fall for that.”

Doyle looked dejected.

“Or that.” Bodie walked to the back of the chair and wheeled Doyle towards the entrance.

“You’re going to make me fend for myself, aren’t you?”

“Heartlessly.”

“I did borrow Dr Hani’s phone to ring Sam to ask him to bring me my phone as soon as possible.”

“Ah. I take it Sam’s Alfa had a problem in the snow?” Bodie wheeled Doyle through the doors and towards the car.

“Bloody car. You wouldn’t have known anything about it if he’d—”

“The cast would have given it away, sunshine.” Bodie opened the passenger door and returned to free Doyle from the chair.

Doyle looked up at him, his eyes narrowed against the sun. “It was magic out there,” he said, sounding a little wistful.

Bodie shook his head. Then he put his own sunglasses on Doyle and gave him a quick kiss. “It still is.”

END  
Written in January 2010


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